Where Angels Fear To Tread
by KISS1971
Summary: It seems Damon isn't the only one fighting for his life, and people thought long dead are starting to crop up. What does Elijah and Katherine know, and what are they hiding? And who are the powerful newcomers, that can walk on water and do magic that Bonnie only dreams of. Where does everbody fit in this very new, very strange world? AU Delana, lots of drama, romance,& suspense
1. Chapter 1: Lend Me Your Ear

**A/N: Welcome to the first of two fanfics that I plan to do for TVD relating to the cure. I'll be pulling info from from all four seasons (although somethings will be altered to fit the story) up to the last epiosode that aired. The Sire Bond is very much present in this story, but it will have a much different meaning and impact, and will be quite shocking for everyone involved. We will meet or hear about people from the past, including Damon and Stefan's mother, and how decisions made long ago are shaping future events. This is a Delena fic with a full cast ensemble, and plenty of twists and turns. There will be other pairings, one in particular that will change the lives and future decisions of alomst every character. **

**Please leave a review if you can. There is nothing like feedback (positive or negative) to keep a writer motivated. Thanks for dropping by and I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter One: Lend Me Your Ear

The Mystic Falls town square was silent, and still shrouded in darkness, the laughter and gaiety of the Winter Wonderland Festival a distant memory, her citizens all tucked safely away, behind closed, and securely locked doors. Well most of the town's citizens anyway, but not all. Most certainly not the two, black cloaked figures that separated themselves from the shadows, to look down on the body of Mayor Lockwood, floating face down in the fountain.

Her death would be ruled an accident, some may even hint at suicide; but no one, not even the county coroner would say she had been murdered. And why would they? With her husband not dead a year yet, almost losing her son at the hands of a vampire hunter, and the town council going down in a blaze of glory, people would understand that she might have just said, "Fuck it all," got drunk, and went swimming face down in the town fountain.

The two dark cloaked figures gazed dispassionately at the body of the Mayor, each seeming lost in their own thoughts. The minutes ticked by slowly, the silence around them profound and absolute. No living creature dared to make themselves known, or even dared breathe, not so long as two such as these two were anywhere in the vicinity. Creatures smarter than men knew when they were in the presence of power, and unlike men, knew not to draw their attention.

"He is devolving," the smaller of the two figures stated.

"That he is," the other replied. "And yet, he may not be the more immediate threat that needs to be addressed."

"Is he beyond redemption?" Asks the smaller figure.

"Is anyone?" The larger of the two asks.

"You know what I ask," comes the reply, with the barest hint of exasperation in the tone.

"Yes, I do," the larger figure replies. "Even after all he has done, and all he will yet do; he is not beyond redemption."

The smaller figure nods once in understanding, as the two of them continue to stare dispassionately at the body of Mayor Lockwood. For long moments, neither speaks; they have very little need or desire for verbal communication. In fact, they have very few desires, almost no needs, and a disdain for emotions. Emotions are messy, tedious, and they consider them to be the most destructive force among mankind.

"The Raven," the smaller one says into the lengthening silence. "Do you think he is ready?"

"It doesn't matter, time has run out," was the soft reply. "None of us have the luxury of time any longer."

"They under estimate him, and don't trust him."

"That was necessary," the larger figure explained. "Having a secret weapon matters little if everyone knows that you have it. Even still, he has friends, he has support, he has some one who loves him."

"In other words," the smaller one clarified. "He has some one who will die for him; if it comes to that."

"And it may very well come to that," the larger of the two said, he voice quiet, haunted. "We have tarried far longer than necessary. Break the seal, we have much to do before the coming of the sun."

There was no one, nor anything to witness their actions; that was how they wanted, how they planned it. Even if there had been, no one would have believed the stories a witness would have recounted. No one would believe a witness who said they saw a dark cloaked figure walk on the water of the town's fountain. No one would believe a witness who repeated words, not heard by any living creature for over a millennium, in a language dead, and long forgotten. No one would believe a witness who swore the sky opened, allowing two blood red lightening bolts to issue forth, striking the open palms of the dark cloaked figure. No one would believe a witness who claimed the force of the lightening was so strong, it created a sonic boom that knocked him clear off his feet. No one would believe a witness who claimed two dark cloaked individuals disappeared within the blink of an eye, almost as if they had never been there to begin with.

* * *

On the other side of Mystic Falls, on a lonely stretch of darkened road, two more figures walked through the night, their hands, and hearts entwined. If anyone were to stumble upon the pair, they'd be shocked to see them together, and then stunned when they realized that these two were _together_. Under normal circumstances, they wouldn't be on the same continent together, much less the same city, and most assuredly not Mystic Falls. But time waits for no man, alive or dead, and they were all running short on time.

As they step onto Wickery Bridge, the man stops, tugging his companion's slight body into his own. He wraps her in the safe haven of his embrace, a contented sigh rumbling through him as she settles against his chest. He rest his cheek against the silky softness of her hair, drawing in a lungful of her scent; a scent that at times haunts him, and at others remind him that he loves. He smiles at the thought of how much he loves this woman in his arms, and chuckles with the knowledge that she loves him just as deeply. Who would have thought it? They were, are the most unlikely of pairings the world over.

"What do you find so amusing?" She asks, pulling back slightly to look into his dark eyes.

"This," he replies, as his mouth settles gently against her's.

It never fails, and never ceases to amaze him, this flash of white hot desire he feels every time he touches her, but the real rush always came whenever she capitulated, and kissed him back, like she was doing now. He felt her slide her small hands up his shoulders, past the corded muscles of his neck, and tangle in his hair so she could deepen the kiss. The feeling of her sharp teeth nipping at his lips caused a small gasp to escape him, and she took full advantage of the opportunity, slipping her tongue into his mouth.

Desire rushed through him, and his blood turned to molten lava as she deepened the kiss even more. All rational thought left him in blinding flash of lust, and he hauled her small body closer, his hands pushing aside clothing until he found skin. As he let his fingers glide along her ribcage, he began to contemplate taking her right here, right now on the bridge, when a flash of lightening ripped through the night sky.

As one, they looked back towards the center of town to see the sky bathed in an eerie, pearlescent gray, as two blood red lightening bolts streak down from the heavens. They glance at each other briefly, as knowledge coalesced between them; they were out of time. With realization came urgency, there were things they needed to do, more importantly, there were people they had to get to. One wrong step at this point would have the world bathed in blood, and would herald Pastor Young's _"greater evil."_

He tightened his grip on her for one moment longer, savoring the feel of her against him. They may never get another moment like this, just the two of them not having to hide, not having to be secret. He gathered her close, wanting to absorb her into him, when they were tossed through the air like rag dolls, landing on the far side of Wickery Bridge.

"Damn!" He gasped, his lungs struggling to take in air. "We know, we know. Life changing events, apocalyptic possibilities, you could give a guy a minute to get one good kiss in."

"Don't tempt them, they might make it your last kiss," she replied to his sarcasm.

"I'd be OK with that," he said solemnly, pulling her down for a hard, possessive kiss. They were both breathing hard when they broke apart. He had them both back on their feet, and was running his hands over body, checking for any broken bones, cuts or abrasions.

'I'm fine," she said gently caressing his cheek. "We need to get moving though."

"I'll round up the girls," he said, turning to look back across the bridge.

"Not by the bridge," she said chuckling. "Unless you feel like a swim."

"I hate that damn bridge," he grumbled. "You sure you want to do it this way?"

"Yes," she answered on a heavy sigh. "There are things that need to be said, things they need to hear, and they need to hear them from me."

"No matter what you need to say or do; don't let them kill each other," he said. "As many problems as it would solve now, it would only bring us to ruin in the long run."

"I know what to do, I know what I have to do," she replied. "I won't screw it up this time."

"Be careful Katerina; as I would have no reservations about killing either or both of them should you come to any harm." And with those words, she watched her friend and lover disappear into the night.

**So Katherine is back (again), but who is her mystery man, and does she really love him? With Katherine you never really know. And our cryptic pair from the beginning, who are they really and what kind of power do they have that allows them to call lightening and walk on water? Please share you thoughts and opinions. I'd love to hear from you!**


	2. Chapter 2: The Little White Wolf

**I'd like to say thank you to the people who left reviews, or those who are following this story. Reviews are the best kind of motivators for a writer, and I really love to hear what you guys think, be it good or bad. **

**This story is AU, so I'll be taking some creative license with the facts as we know them. The rating will change to M within the next few chapters, but I will place a warning at the beginning of any chapter that contains violence or sexual content.**

Chapter Two: Little White Wolf

They were together. Damon and Elena. His brother, and his girlfriend. No, his ex-girlfriend, and his dirty, rat bastard brother. Together, laughing, holding hands, kissing, caressing, loving. She was sharing herself with him; even if it wasn't completely voluntary, she was still allowing him to touch her, to love her. She was sharing with Damon, things she never shared with him. They shared blood; Elena had taken blood directly from Damon, an act so intimate, so personal, it eclipsed all other forms of contact; human or vampiric. Blood sharing transcended all physical, and spiritual acts, and formed bonds so strong, severing them could very well hurt the parties involved. He was going to fucking kill him. He was going to rip Damon's God damned heart from his chest, and toss it off Wickery Bridge.

Stefan should have known that Damon wouldn't let Elena go. He had wanted Elena for far too long, and as soon as the opportunity presented itself, Damon did what he always did. He thought about himself, and to hell with everyone else. He knew Damon was selfish, that his brother felt entitled to do whatever he wanted, get whatever he wanted, but Stefan had truly believed that where Elena was concerned, Damon could be nothing but honorable.

The pain he felt when he realized what Caroline was trying to tell him had been unbearable. It had ripped his heart to pieces, and shredded what soul he had left. Then he was consumed by rage, and in a pique of temper, he completely destroyed everything he could get his hands on. He knew he had frightened Caroline, but he just hadn't been able to bring himself to care. He had wanted to destroy his brother, and since Damon hadn't been close enough for hm to do so, Stefan had settled for destroying the room he and Caroline were in.

Once he had calmed from murderous rage, to just plain psychopathic ex-boyfriend, he called Elena, or at least he tried. After getting voice mail three times, he changed tactics and called his brother, from Caroline's phone; to no avail. Stefan had managed not to pulverize the offending object, and instead called Jeremy. The young hunter confirmed that Elena, and Damon had been there all day, but that they had both left a few hours ago. Stefan had just barely managed to register that they had not left together, but that Bonnie and Elena were heading home, and that Damon indicated he wanted to be alone at the boardinghouse for a bit.

So here he was, on his motorcycle, tearing through Mystic Falls on his way to a confrontation with his brother that had been coming for weeks, maybe even decades. Images of the two of them together assailed him as he roared over Wickery Bridge, approaching the boardinghouse at a break neck speed. He barely brought the bike to a complete stop before jumping off, and crashing through the front door. Stefan noted that Damon's Camaro was parked out front, a clear indication that his brother was definitely somewhere inside, and he hoped like hell that Elena was not with him. He planned on killing his brother, but he didn't want Elena to see him do it; he didn't care that she would know it was him, he just didn't want her to bear witness to it.

The smell of pine greeted him as soon as he came through the front door, but he pushed away what it could possibly mean, not wishing to be distracted from his ultimate goal. He took a few moments to take stock of the situation, his senses telling him that no living creatures were inside or nearby. No, that was not quite true, and his eyes snapped open just as a small, furry ball of white energy launched it's self at him, hitting him square in the chest.

"Do me a favor brother, don't munch on Elena's Christmas gift," he heard Damon say from the great room. "Would hate to tell her that her gift ended up being a snack for a hungry vampire."

"You got Elena a Christmas gift?" Stefan asked incredulous, as he walked into the great room.

He came to an abrupt stop, his eyes widening in amazement as he took in all the changes that Damon had wrought. There were several red, and white poinsettias placed strategically around the room, as well as mistletoe hanging in all the open doorways, including the one above his head. A quick glance at the fire place confirmed that stockings had been hung, seven in all with names done in glittering, silver calligraphy. The floor was covered in a layer of fake snow, and Stefan damn near jumped out of his skin when a shrill whistle announced the arrival of a train on a track that had been suspended from the ceiling.

Stefan stared in open mouth wonder, as he watched the train make it's circuit around the room, it's engine chugging happily, and it's whistle tooting as it once again left the room for parts unknown. But the most magnificent sight, was the humungous Christmas tree that had to be at least ten feet tall, all decked out with twinkling lights, and ornaments, and surrounded on all sides by a mountain of neatly wrapped packages.

"Actually," Damon drawled, turning to face his brother. "I got her several, but I was wondering if I should put a bow around my neck, or if that might be a bit over the top. I most definitely plan to keep my clothes on, removing them would be symbolic to her opening a gift."

And just like that, Stefan saw red, and all rational thought went right out the window. He wasn't sure what happened to the puppy, but he had both hands free by the time he collided with Damon, and the two of them went crashing into a bookcase, shattering glass and wood under the force of their impact. Before he could get a solid hold on his brother, Stefan found himself hurtled through the air, landing heavily on the solid dining room table. The wood of the table held, but the chair that Damon threw at him never stood a chance, as he grabbed it out of the air, sending it through a window to land in the front yard.

Knowing his brother was stronger, faster, and meaner, Stefan wasted no time closing the distance between them, breaking Damon's knee with a vicious kick, and following it with an uppercut that sent his brother air borne. Damon hit a wall so hard, it buckled slightly, raining plaster down on him, and the floor. He caught a very brief glimpse of the little white wolf as it tried valiantly to hide from the two maniacs tearing the house down around themselves.

He was so not in the mood for this kind of shit right now after the past couple of days that he had been forced to endure. He should have known that who ever was in charge of the master plan never had any intention of allowing one Damon Salvatore a moment of happiness. Actually, when he thought about it, moments were all he did have, it was the longer, happy ever after that he was never in the running for. Damn, karma was a bitch, and she obviously had no love for him, or he was working off one hell of a karmic bill from some previous life.

Even with his knee still throbbing in pain, and a jaw he was sure was broken, Damon was able to move before Stefan could get his hands on him again. For just a moment, a very brief moment, Damon thought about just letting his brother beat the shit out of him, and then maybe they be even. Some how he was certain Stefan wouldn't see it that way, so he blurred, and before his brother could register his location, he kicked him at his ankle, knee, kidney, ribs, and one vicious roundhouse to the neck. He heard the sound of bones giving way beneath his onslaught, and watched as Stefan crumbled to a heap on the floor. He should have taken that moment to, at the very least, render Stefan unconscious, but he hesitated one second too long, and that was all the time his brother had needed.

Damon felt the air leave his lungs in a painful rush that was eclipsed by the sensation of his blood burning in his veins like acid. The pain was so horrendous that he almost welcomed the darkness that was trying to pull him under, but some small shred of self preservation wouldn't allow him to succumb. He opened his eyes, and immediately shut them again as the room spun crazily, and his stomach heaved in protest. His hands desperately sought out the source of this soul wrenching pain, only to fall useless at his side, as his body was wracked once again by an impact to his chest. He wasn't sure, but he had the impression that Stefan had shot him, with wooden bullets no less, and since he was a betting man, he was sure those wooden bullets were hunter bullets, dipped in vervain at the very least, or werewolf venom at the very worst.

"I realize now," Stefan said coming down to straddle his legs so Damon couldn't move. "That I should have done this a very long time ago, that there was never any hope of saving you. There was nothing good in you worth saving, not then, and most certainly not now."

Damon opened his eyes very slowly, and still the room titled crazily, and his stomach threatened to empty itself of any blood that he had taken in, but he refused to give Stefan the satisfaction of seeing him so weakened. He grabbed his brother's wrist in a death grip, and placed it right over the spot where his heart was thundering in his chest.

"Wouldn't want you to miss," he rasped, his blue eyes locking with his brother's. He wasn't going to make it easy for him, if Stefan wanted to kill him, then by God, Damon was going to make him watch as his life slipped away from him.

"I wasn't planning on missing," Stefan replied, righteous fury still burning through him, fueling his actions. "You deserve this; more than anyone else, you deserve to die."

It seemed to Damon that everything in that moment slowed down, and he watched as Stefan pulled back his arm to plunge the stake through his chest, to his heart. Out of the corner of his eye, Damon saw the wolf pup inch out from under a china closet, watching them warily. In that moment he felt the stake pierce his chest, shredding skin, and bones, and before he could take in one last breath, he plummeted into the sweet oblivion of darkness.

**Well this was a little unexpected, and this chapter took a detour from what I originally had in mind. I hope it was an enjoyable read, and reviews are greatly welcomed and appreciated. Thanks for stopping by!**


	3. Chapter 3: All I Need Is A Miracle

**A/N: I was hoping to get this chapter posted a couple of days ago, but life kept getting in the way. For any new comers, this story is AU, but I'll be using info from the show up to Season 4 Episode 9. In the next few chapters we are going to be meeting some new people, not introduced in the show, like Damon & Stefan's mother, and a few other surprises.**

**Like any author I like reviews, but I've also come to realize that most people do not leave them. So I try to take comfort in the number of people who follow my stories or just follow my writing. I try to leave a thank you for any one who does leave a review, and I do so love insight and comments left by others. So please, if you can leave a review, long, short, positive or negative. Thanks.**

Chapter Three: All I Need Is A Miracle

Elena Gilbert was in pain. There was simply no other way to put it. The last year of her life could be summed up in a litany of obituaries, punctuated by very brief moments of utter happiness, and long moments of utter despair. Right now, she was firmly planted in desolation, the ache in her heart an unrelenting source of that desolation. She had grieved for all the people she'd lost, the pain of their loss healing slowly, but healing none the less. All of that ended when Damon had "set her free," simply because Stefan had asked him to. Neither of them had thought to ask her what she wanted, after all they both believed that because of the sire bond, she wasn't capable of knowing her own mind, or heart.

"You doing OK?" Bonnie asked, taking a quick peak at her friend.

"I don't even know what OK is anymore," Elena replied on heavy sigh.

"That is a sentiment we both share," Bonnie chuckled. "I barely remember the simple things that would have us on the phone with each other for hours. And that was after we spent all day together in school."

"Do you wish we could turn back time?" Elena asked, turning slightly in her seat so that she see Bonnie's face. "Go back to where life made sense, and we didn't start the day by wondering who might die, or who we will have to kill?"

"Hell yes," Bonnie said fervently. "But then reality would sink in and I would have to say no. Going back to those days doesn't erase all the things that go bump in the night. It would just make us unaware, and unprepared to deal with them. At least this way we stand a fighting chance."

"I hate to say it, but if this is our fighting chance, we'd be better off sticking our collective heads in the sand, and hoping the bad shit would just pass us by," Elena said wryly.

"Not with our luck!" Bonnie exclaimed with a smile. "I think it says a lot that Matt is the only complete human left in our little circle. Probably means he's out saving grace."

"Still," Elena continued on a sigh. "I'd still love to go back to that part of our lives where the only things that mattered were, what college to apply to, and what to wear to Senior Prom."

"I never thought uncomplicated, and boring would hold so much appeal," Bonnie said, as she quickly glanced over at her best friend. She had noticed Elena rubbing her chest, her face slightly drawn, as if she was in pain, but before Bonnie could ask her what was bothering her, Elena's phone broke the silence.

"Hey Care," Elena answered. A lengthy pause ensued, and Bonnie damn near wrecked the car, when Elena let loose with a loud exclamation, and grabbed her arm.

"We have to go back to the lake...," she began, but something Caroline said made her stop mid sentence, and Bonnie took the opportunity to pull over before they ended up crashing, or going off Wickery Bridge. She was pretty sure neither of them were up for a late night swim.

"He's headed to the boardinghouse?" Elena asked her voice puzzled, and strained.

Bonnie watched Elena's face, and she could discern from her expressions that something bad was happening, something very bad. They had planned to drive straight to Elena's from the lake house, but decided to stop to get something to eat, and to give them some time to talk. It had been a long time since they had given themselves that luxury, and they were long over due. Bonnie had decided not push her friend about her relationship with the older Salvatore, so they had ended up talking about her and Jeremy.

It had felt good to just sit, talk, pick at french fries, and just be friends. As they were heading to the car, Elena asked Bonnie to take her to the boardinghouse instead of to her own house. She was already missing Damon, and since he was staying at the lake house with Jeremy, she didn't think he would care if she crashed there instead of home. Bonnie knew that Elena planned to not just crash at the boardinghouse, but to crash in the bed of one Damon Salvatore. She had fervently hoped that Stefan wasn't in residence tonight, knowing Elena was nowhere near ready to deal with the whole situation.

"Car," Elena said in an attempt to get in a word. "What..., how..."

"Damn it Caroline, shut up for a damn second!" Elena exclaimed. Bonnie watched as her friend began to rub her chest in earnest.

"Why is Stefan heading to the boardinghouse?" Elena hit the speaker button, and Caroline's voice filled the interior of the darkened car.

"He tried calling both you, and Damon," Caroline explained. "When neither of you answered, he called Jeremy."

"Which one of them was Stefan trying to get in touch with?" Bonnie asked as foreboding began to tighten in her stomach. The two friends glanced at each other as the silence stretched a beat too long.

"I'm pretty sure he wants to talk to Damon," Caroline replied her voice trailing off at the end.

"Caroline," Elena started as panic began to fill her chest. "Why do I get the feeling you're leaving out something?"

"Well," Caroline hedge.

"Spill it Car," Bonnie said, her nerves beginning to fray.

"He knows."

"Stefan knows that Damon and I...,"

"Yes," Caroline interrupted her. "He knows that the two of you have been...,that you and Damon..."

"Stefan knows that Damon and I slept together," Elena finished for her.

"Yes," her friend replied. "But..."

"But what Caroline?" Bonnie asked in exasperation.

She was growing alarmed as Elena continued rubbing at her chest, but it was the short, shallow breaths that were really beginning to frighten her. Her friend had gone very pale, the pupils of her eyes widening, almost obliterating out the irises. Bonnie wasn't sure what was happening to Elena, but she can tell it wasn't good, and it was rapidly going downhill.

"Stefan thinks Damon took advantage of the sire bond," Caroline answered in as sheepish voice. "He said he was an idiot for believing that Damon would let you go, and that killing his brother was the least he could do to right this particular wrong."

"He won't kill Damon," Elena said. "He's wanted to in the past, but he never has. He won't kill his brother."

"Elena," Caroline said quietly. "I think you might be wrong this time. I've never seen Stefan like this, and God knows Damon has driven him to the brink of insanity on more than once occasion, but this time, this time I think he really means to do it."

"OK," Bonnie starts. "Let's say Stefan is serious this time; but Damon is at the lake house. We'll call him, or Jeremy, and let them know that they have a potentially out of control Stefan heading their way. Damon can clear out and give his brother some time to calm down."

"Damon is not at the lake house," Caroline interjected. "Jeremy said he left about fifteen minutes after the two of you. That he wanted to be alone for a little while at the boardinghouse, and he would head back up to the lake in the morning."

"OH GOD!" Elena exclaimed as she nearly ripped the car door of its hinges in her haste to get out of the vehicle.

"Are you guys pulled over on the side of the road by Wickery Bridge?" Caroline asked.

"Yeah," Bonnie answered as she scrambled to get out of the car. "There's something really wrong with Elena."

"Well duh," Caroline replied, stopping behind Bonnie's car. "She's basically throwing away the love of her life, because she's sired to a psychopath."

"No Caroline, something is seriously wrong with her," Bonnie retorted as the blond vampire stopped at her side. "She seems like she's in pain, or at the very least uncomfortable. She's been rubbing her chest for awhile, and now she's breathing in short, shallow pants."

"Elena," Caroline called, as she moved around the car, and stepped into her friend's path. "Honey what's wrong?"

Caroline was shocked when Elena stopped and looked at her. Her friend was pale, paler than normal, almost as if no blood was beneath the skin to give it a rosy hue. Her eyes were huge, the pupils completely obscuring the irises, and when those eyes locked onto her, Caroline felt as if Elena was looking straight into her soul. It scared the shit right out of her, and she took a small step back away from Elena, as her fight or flight instinct kicked in. Caroline noticed that she wasn't the only one freaked out, Bonnie had also taken a step away from Elena.

"We need to get her home," states Bonnie, as she moves closer to her friend, only to draw away again when Elena's gaze locks onto her.

"Damn it," Caroline exclaims as powerful tremors seize Elena. "What the hell is happening here, what's wrong with her?"

"Nothing is really wrong with her." Bonnie, and Caroline jump as a man separates himself from the shadows, and strides towards them.

"But if we don't get her to the boardinghouse quickly, she will die," he tells them, blurring to Elena's side, and catching the unconscious vampire before she could hit the ground.

* * *

Damon opened his eyes very slowly, and still the room titled crazily, and his stomach threatened to empty itself of any blood that he had taken in, but he refused to give Stefan the satisfaction of seeing him so weakened. He grabbed his brother's wrist in a death grip, and placed it right over the spot where his heart was thundering in his chest.

"Wouldn't want you to miss," he rasped, his blue eyes locking with his brother's. He wasn't going to make it easy for him, if Stefan wanted to kill him, then by God, Damon was going to make him watch as his life slipped away from him.

"I wasn't planning on missing," Stefan replied, righteous fury still burning through him, fueling his actions. "You deserve this; more than anyone else, you deserve to die."

As the stake entered Damon's chest, Stefan felt some one grab him by his shirt, and hurtle him through the air. The couch he landed on splintered into several pieces from the force of the impact, and a jagged piece ripped through his shoulder causing him to cry out at the pain. He felt warm, sticky blood seep through his shirt, and he reached up, pulling the wood from his shoulder. Stefan looked over to where Damon was still sprawled out on the floor, the stake protruding from his chest. He pushed himself off the floor, needing to see if it was done, needing to see if his brother was dead.

"You can't kill him," Katherine said blocking his path. "I know you want to, but you can't Stefan; you just can't. More importantly, I can't let you."

"Why not?" Stephan asked, anger, and hurt making him sound desperate. "He's hurt every person who comes into his life. He's destructive, self centered and only cares about himself. He takes advantage of every opportunity handed to him, we'd all be better, we'd all do better without him in our lives."

Katherine moved to kneel at Damon's side, her small hands gliding over his body, checking to see if Stefan had indeed managed to drive the stake into Damon's heart. She swore succinctly in her native language as she took stock of the situation. He had lost a staggering amount of blood, and the vervain on the bullets, and stake were keeping him from healing any of his injuries. The stake was embedded deeply in his chest cavity, so not a good sign. They were going to need a miracle, but they had always known it was going to come down to one person, and they would be unable to control or manipulate the odds in their favor.

"_We are running out of time."_

"_I know, trust me I know. I have her, and we are making our way to you post haste."_

"_Hurry, please hurry. He's going to need your blood."_

"_I will be there in but a moments time,__сърцето ми."_

She dug the bullets out of him, but left the stake where it was. She wasn't the one who had the right to remove it. Katherine bit her wrist, forcing her blood into Damon. She was old, and her vampiric bloodline was ancient, so she was hoping that her blood would buy them some time, and right now they needed all the time that they could buy, beg or borrow.

"Stefan," Katherine said, her voice weary and strained. "There is so much more here than you, or any of us for that matter, really know. There are things you don't know, secrets that have been buried for an eternity, and a reckoning of global proportions taking shape. If Damon Salvatore dies, none of us stand a snow ball's chance in hell of seeing the dawn of a new century."

As her words trailed off, the door to the boardinghouse exploded open, and Stefan watched Bonnie, and Caroline hurry into the room, followed by Elijah, who was carrying an unconscious Elena in his arms. Stefan wanted to step forward, take Elena from him, but a look from Elijah held him in place. He watched mutely as Katherine propped Damon's back against the wall, and Elijah settled Elena into Damon's arms. No one moved, or said anything for a few moments, until the little white wolf pup scampered across the floor to snuggle into Elena's lap.

"If you believe in God, any God, a higher power, or even a lower power, now would be the time to beg them for help, because we are going to need it, we are going to need one hell of a miracle tonight," Elijah said as all eyes were riveted to the couple on the floor, a couple that looked closer to death with each passing second.

**A/N: Looks like things are still up in the air for our boy Damon. Chapter four will be a very emotional journey (if I can pull it off) for Damon and Elena. Let me know what you think, and thanks for taking the time read!**


	4. Chapter 4: All I Need Is You

**A/N: As always thank you for the reviews that were left. This chapter has been a challenge, and the next one is also shaping up to be rather difficult to write. This chapter was suppose to end quite a bit differently, but someone asked me a question about Damon and Stefan that got me to thinking. So I decided to pose that question to all of you, and see what you all want from Damon and Stefan's relationship. Bascially is it important to you that Damon and Stefan mend their bond, or would you rather see them continue to antagonize each other? Please let me know how you feel.**

Chapter 4: All I Need Is You

The problem with sweet oblivion is it never lasts for very long, and there's nothing really sweet about it. Unless you're dead of course, at which point you wouldn't know, or give a rat's ass. Added to that if this is what death feels like, it hurt like a bitch, and Damon wanted no parts of it. But, if he was in pain, and yes nimrod that was pain shooting through his entire body, then he wasn't dead, which meant he could happily snap his brother's overly judgmental neck.

Damon slowly opened his eyes, expecting the room to still be tilting, and for his stomach to put a massive protest. But neither happened, no wait, his stomach gave a violent heave, and he spewed blood all over himself and the floor. He felt his chest heaving, his heart thundering like a run away train, and his lungs burning as he tried desperately to pull in air. He drew his legs up to his chest, wrapped his around them, and let his head fall onto his knees.

He was so going to kill his fucking little brother, he should have killed him in 1864, or better still 1846 when the little bastard had been born. _"Yeah right, don't fool yourself moron," _a little voice in his head mocked him. _"You didn't have the balls to kill him then and you sure as hell don't have them now."_ Damon pushed the voice away, doing his best to ignore it while he struggled to his feet. Bad idea, God damn bad idea he thought as he crashed back onto the floor, and the room once again began its uncanny resemblance to the Tilt-A-Whirl ride. He knew he was in trouble, but right at that moment he didn't know, nor cared how he was going to get himself out of this one. He wanted Elena, he needed her, needed to hear her say they would be fine, that he would be fine.

"Elena," he said on a broken whisper, his voice pain filled as dark tentacles reached for him, pulling him back into that sweet oblivion.

* * *

Elena heard the whisper of her name, a voice calling for her laced with pain, fear, and barely on this side of sanity. Damon. Without a doubt in her mind, she knew it was Damon was calling for her, and something fierce, something protective rose up in her as adrenaline poured through her body. She swore vehemently that if Damon died, she would personally rip Stefan's heart from his chest, and throw the damn thing off Wickery Bridge.

She looked around, not quite sure where she was, or in what direction she needed to go. It seemed as if the whole world have gone dark gray. It wasn't totally dark as she could see, but there just didn't seem to be anything to see, like the world was obscured in fog. She thought she heard raised voices, but as she turned towards them, the fog rippled, then cleared completely, and she found herself standing in an elegantly furnished room.

At first Elena thought she was alone until a small hiccup had her moving further into the large room. As she neared an ornately carved fireplace, she spied a small dark haired boy huddled in a corner by a closed door. She couldn't see his face as he had it buried against his legs, which were drawn up tightly against his chest. Just as she was about to approach the obviously distraught child, her attention was seized by angry shouting from whoever was behind the door.

"I don't want him here," this from a very angry male voice. "That boy is the very devil himself."

"How can you say that Giuseppe," a female voice countered. "He is your son."

"Is he?" The man Giuseppe asked, his words contemptuous. "Does my blood truly run in the veins of that creature?"

"Of course he is," the woman retorted just as angrily. "He is a child, he is your son, how dare you say otherwise?"

"Oh I dare alright," he roared at her. "That boy looks less like a Salvatore, and more like a Lockwood with each passing year."

"So now you accuse me of cuckolding you," the woman replied, her voice calm, steady, and very, very dangerous.

"I am not accusing you of anything," Giuseppe replied, his voice just as caustic, just as dangerous as the woman's. "You wouldn't have to ask if I was, but I want_ that boy_ away from here. I don't want him around Stefan."

"And where exactly do you want him to go?" The woman asked. "I suggest you think about that for a very long time, give it the consideration it deserves, and while you're at it, lets not forget whose money rescued the vaulted Salvatores from debtors court."

"Don't you dare threaten me, you shameless little bitch!"

"To use your own words Giuseppe, oh I dare alright," came her reply. "I don't question you over your lovers, so don't you dare think to question me about mine."

Elena's gaze had been riveted on the closed door, but a small movement caught her attention, and she turned to find a set of electric blue eyes staring at her from the face of an angel. Damon. The little boy in the corner was a young Damon Salvatore. She thought he was gorgeous as a grown man, but as a child he had been astonishingly pretty, and she was sure that wasn't something he would have admitted to. His blue eyes were mesmerizing, yet shadowed with a pain that broke her heart, and made her want to comfort him. She found herself moving toward him, his eyes tracking her movement, but just before she reached him, the room tilted crazily, and that damn gray fog rolled in.

When the world stopped moving in its mad tilt, the fog once again lifted and Elena found herself standing near a clump of rocks, by a lazily winding creek. The sun was high, and bright over head, and she saw two shirtless men sitting by the water, cleaning themselves. She moved closer wanting to hear what they were saying, wanting to see their faces.

"I bet Jonathan Gilbert has told father by now. I wonder how he took the news that we're dead?"

"As if he cares. He betrayed us."

Ah, Elena thought. Damon and Stefan after Katherine had supposedly died in the church with all the other vampires. They truly did look the same so many years ago as they did today. Maybe a little less jaded, and cynical, Stefan hadn't acquired the shield of brooding yet, and Damon; Damon was hurt, vulnerable, but he hadn't learned how to hide it at this point.

"He thought he was protecting us Damon. He thought he was protecting this town."

"God. The sun hurts my eyes." Damon said looking briefly to the sky.

"Its part of it. The muscle aches, the sick feeling, its our body pushing us to feed." Stefan explained to him. "To complete the transition."

"That's not going to happen." Damon said.

"Is that your choice then?" Stefan asked his brother. "To die instead?"

"Isn't is yours?" Damon asked a little perplexed. "This was all to be with Katherine. But she's gone, I want it over."

Elena knew that Damon hadn't wanted to complete the transition, he had told her as much, but it was so very different seeing, and hearing him say so. He really had loved Katherine, and he had no desire to be a vampire without her. She blinked, and went to move towards him, but in that instant, the sun went down, the sky darkened, and Damon was sitting alone by the water. And then she saw Stefan approach him with a young woman.

"What are you doing? Who is that?" She heard him ask, as he caught sight of his brother and the young woman.

"I brought her for you." Stefan answered. "She's a gift. Have a seat please."

"What have you done Stefan?"

"Damon, I've been to see father. He came at me. I didn't know my own strength, and there was blood everywhere," Stefan explained. "He was dying, and the blood was too strong. I needed it, I had to have it."

"You fed?" Damon asked incredulous.

"Yes, and its incredible. My body is exploding with power, Damon."

"No," Damon moans.

"I can hear things from far away. I can see through the darkness. I can move like it's magic," Stefan continued. "And the guilt, the pain, Damon I can turn it off like a switch. Katherine was right. There's a whole other world out there Damon."

"Katherine is dead Stefan. There is no world without her."

"No," Stefan replied, grabbing Damon, keeping him from leaving. "You can turn that off too. You don't have to feel that pain anymore."

"I don't want it," Damon said trying to break free of his brother's hold.

"You're weak, you'll be dead soon," Stefan said, his hands around Damon's neck. "You need this."

"No." Damon says so quietly.

"You'll die," Stefan replies.

"No, I can't."

Stefan pulls the young woman closer, holding Damon with one hand, he bites the woman's neck. "I won't let you die. Don't fight it, we can do this together."

"Oh Damon," Elena barely whispered his name as his mouth settled tentatively on the woman's neck. She didn't know how or why, but it seemed as if he had heard her, because at that moment he looked at her, his blue eyed gaze filled with an intense, all consuming hunger, and she felt as if she would burst into flames from the intensity of that gaze. Those eyes called to her beseechingly, willing her to come closer, promising her a world of unparalleled passion. Elena wanted that, she craved everything he was promising her, but as she moved towards him, he moved away from her. She saw the fog beginning to roll in, and she cursed in frustration as the world was once again covered in shadows. She watched as his mouth worked at the young woman's neck, and as his eyes drifted closed in ecstasy, he faded away into nothingness.

Elena felt the slight disorientation that heralded the lifting of the fog, and she tried to brace herself for what she would see next. Once again she finds herself in the great room of the boardinghouse, watching as a pensive Damon crosses the room, drink in hand. She can tell something is bothering him, that something is eating at him, making him feel vulnerable and afraid

"Very brave of you to come here." At first Elena thinks he's addressing her, but the rustling of fabric draws her attention to the sofa; where of all people in the world, Katherine was lounging.

"I wanted to say goodbye."

"Leaving so soon?" He asks her as he walks towards the sofa.

"I know where I'm not wanted." Katherine says her voice a silken invitation.

"Don't pout. Its not attractive on a woman your age."

"Ouch."

Elena felt the air around her vibrate with the tension pouring from the two of them, and a very uneasy feeling took hold of her, making her heart race, and her palms itch with the desire to slap the bitch. She knew this wasn't going to end well, things never did when Katherine was involved, but add Damon to the mix, and the situation became downright volatile.

"What, no goodbye kiss?" Katherine asked him, blocking his path as he attempted to leave the room.

"Why don't I kill you instead," he retorted. "What are you doing here?"

"Nostalgia, curiosity, et-cetera," she replied.

I'm better at the enigmatic one liners, Katherine. What are you up to?"

"Trust me Damon, when I'm up to something you'll know it."

"Come on, kiss me or kill me," she taunted him, moving into his personal space. "Which will it be Damon; we both know you're only capable of one."

Elena definitely didn't like how this confrontation between them was preceding, but there was little she could do about it. Katherine's effect on Damon was visceral, and the way she had of tying him into knots was painful to know about, and downright agonizing to observe. It was a wonder that he hadn't become completely unhinged, turning into a ripper that would have rivaled his brother.

She watched as he turned his back on Katherine, but before he could take even a few steps, she had him the floor, one hand caressing his chest, the rest of her body anchoring him. Elena was pretty damn sure she didn't want to see this, didn't want a front row seat to what they did with and to each other. She knew Katherine was just toying with him, well she hoped that was all, you never could tell when the bitch was involved.

"My sweet, innocent Damon."

Elena wanted to laugh, had Damon ever been innocent? She hadn't thought so, but the image of little boy Damon, made her rethink that sentiment. She didn't think it was possible, but she had become so distracted thinking about that little boy, she had blocked these two out completely.

"OK, wait," she heard Damon say raggedly, and when she focused on them, it was to find Damon's shirt ripped open, and his body pinning Katherine's to a table. Well they sure as hell didn't waste any time getting to this point.

"Brief pause." Well now this was getting interesting, Elena thought as she watched Katherine push Damon away from her. Maybe she wasn't going to fuck his brains out, and then rip his heart into itty bitty pieces of confetti.

"I have a question. Answer it, and its back to fireworks, and rockets red glare." Elena really wanted to scream at him, or hit him, anything so that he would take the opportunity and walk away from Katherine.

"Answer it right, and I'll forget the last 145 years I spent missing you. I'll forget how much I loved you. I'll forget everything and we can start over. This can be our defining moment. Because we have time, that's the beauty of eternity. I just need the truth, just once."

No Damon, don't do this, don't do this to yourself. Elena wished she could break through whatever was happening, and beg him not to go down this road with Katherine. Nothing good could from it, absolutely nothing, except his total devastation at her hands. She done it twice already, once in his life, and once in his death, the least the bitch could do was leave his immortal life a little less tattered.

"Stop," she heard Katherine say to him. Something in her tone caught Elena's attention, causing her to look at solely at her nemesis.

"I already know your question, and it's answer.," she says, her face free of any hint at manipulation. Probably for the first time ever. "The truth is I've never loved you. It was always Stefan."

Complete, and total annihilation. That was what she had just done to him, and it caused Elena to see red. She bristled visibly, venom, and hatred pumping through her with a corrosiveness that erased everything else, but the desire to kill this one person. The need to physically put her hands on Katherine, and cause her excruciating pain was all consuming, and she vowed to see to it that the bitch paid for what she had done to Damon.

Elena looked back to Damon, and found his eyes locked on her. The depth of emotions that crossed his face brought tears to her eyes, and all she wanted to do was pull him to her, and comfort him. She began to make her way across the room, but to her utter frustration, he kept moving away. Elena cursed the fickle nature of fate as the fog rolled in, obscuring the world, and taking Damon from her again.

* * *

"He's resisting," Elijah said, kneeling next to Katherine, who had two fingers resting lightly on Damon's wrist, counting the sluggish beats of his pulse.

"Of course he is," she replied, not bothering to hide the frustration in her tone. "He would pick now, when so much is riding on this outcome, to be a stubborn, noble jackass.

"Why are you two just sitting there?" Bonnie asked moving towards them. "Why aren't you helping them?"

"Because it isn't up to us," Katherine answered glancing at Bonnie.

"What the hell does that even mean?" Stefan asked.

"Exactly as it sounds," Elijah said, turning to Stefan. "We wouldn't be able to help him anyway, even if our hands weren't already tied.

"So, what," Stefan growled, his anger mounting with each cryptic statement they made. "We let him die and take her down with him? Is something like that even a possibility?"

"Look Stefan," Elijah began. "If we get through this, no _when _we get through this, I'll answer your questions. Or at least answer the ones I actually have answers for."

"I wonder," Katherine interrupted, her gaze going back and forth between Stefan and Damon. "Maybe all the pieces aren't in play right now."

"You're thinking we missed something?" Elijah asked Katherine, the two of them sharing a silent look.

"Not something," Katherine replied, as her focus returned to Stefan. "But someone."

Before anyone could so much as blink, Katherine blurred to where Stefan was standing, snapped his neck with her small hands, and gently lowered him into Elijah's waiting arms.

**If you have the time to leave a review, it will be greatly appreicated. Thanks for reading (and hopefully enjoying).**


	5. Chapter 5: Son Of A Bitch-Witch

**A/N: Sorry that this chapter took a while to get done, and posted. There is so much that I neeed to get into the next few chapters that it get s hard to decided what to reveal and when to reveal it. I will be kicking it up a notch and then (hopefully) the action will get intense.**

**Thank you for the reviews that have been left. They keeping me motivated, and helps me get an insight into what you guys are thinking and hoping for, so please drop a little review, even one word reviews help!**

Chapter 5: Son Of A Bitch-Witch

"_I wonder," Katherine interrupted, her gaze going back and forth between Stefan and Damon. "Maybe all the pieces aren't in play right now."_

"_You're thinking we missed something?" Elijah asked Katherine, the two of them sharing a silent look._

"_Not something," Katherine replied, as her focus returned to Stefan. "But someone."_

_Before anyone could so much as blink, Katherine blurred to where Stefan was standing, snapped his neck with her small hands, and gently lowered him into Elijah's waiting arms._

He was so going to kill that conniving, manipulative little bitch when he got his hands on her. He should have known that Katherine was knee deep in whatever was going on, especially if it involved him, his brother, and Elena. Despite how she had double crossed them, on more than one occasion, when they had needed her the most, she had surprisingly enough been there. The part that Stefan didn't understand, was that Katherine seemed firmly entrenched in Damon's corner. Her past behavior indicated that when forced to choose between the two of them, she had consistently chosen him. So why all of sudden was she switching up now, and exactly how did Elijah figure into it?

Well he wasn't going to get any answers without asking any questions, and there was no time like the present to start making his demands. Stefan picked himself up from the floor, ready to confront Katherine and Elijah, only to realize he wasn't at the boardinghouse. He had no idea where he was, or how he got here. He could see nothing, his vision obscured by a dense, roiling gray cloud that seemed impenetrable. Katherine was so dead once he caught up with her.

"Moira, you are a witch of the second order, that shouldn't be taken lightly."

Stefan heard the voice of a man, and as he turned towards it, he saw the gray mist ripple, then dissipate until it was gone. He was shocked to find himself standing in one of the drawing rooms in his family's ancestral home, the home he had grown up in; the home he was pretty sure Damon had burned to the ground before leaving Mystic Falls.

"And when this is over?" A woman asked.

Stefan thought for sure his undead, vampire heart would stop beating when his gaze fell on the woman who had just spoken. She was a beautiful woman, tall and graceful. Her face was framed by a cascade of black curls that fell nearly to the small of her back. Her eyes were the most vivid shade of blue-purple, they were so dark, so mesmerizing, you'd willingly give her your soul if she asked for it. Although he had no specific memories from which to draw, Stefan knew her, he knew this beautiful woman; she was Moira Salvatore, she was his mother.

Elena was pretty sure that Stefan had yet to spot her, and for the moment that was how she wanted it to remain. She hadn't spotted Damon yet, but given where they were, and how the couple was currently dressed, she knew it would be a young Damon Salvatore who would make an appearance. She was still uncertain as to what was transpiring, and Stefan's sudden arrival didn't shed any light on the situation; if anything his presence added yet another level of complexity.

"You will be elevated to the first order," the man replied, drawing Elena's attention back to him and the woman. You understand you'll need to leave Mystic Falls."

"Yes, a rather small but necessary price," the woman replied. "This is something I have worked hard to achieve, and there is no price I wouldn't be willing to pay."

"Are you sure about that?" He asked, his tone heightening Elena's anxiety.

She stole a quick peak at Stefan to see that his whole being was focused solely on the woman, no one else existed for him at this moment. He watched her with greedy eyes, soaking up every detail about her, his expression both wistful and devastated. Stefan had been very young when his mother had died, and Elena knew he had almost no memories of her, only vague impressions, and the little pieces that Damon had been willing to share.

"By your tone, I am assuming the issue concerning my children needs resolving," she said.

"You know that is the case," the man replied. "You broke the original covenant, if you wish to be elevated to the highest order, you need to set the agreement back to right."

"Fine Zaras," she said, her tone a tad hostile, and Elena would swear that flames flickered with the depth of her violet colored eyes. "What price has been agreed upon by the Coven?"

"Since there was only suppose to be one," Zaras started, his tone neutral, his body language relaxed. "You can only protect one."

"You could have easily made this decision for me," she replied.

"I agree with your logic that I know what your decision will be," he said inclining his head in acknowledgment with her assessment. "Unfortunately the Coven requires that you, and you alone make said decision."

"I believe they are working under the impression that forcing me to make a choice will act as some sort of punishment for my actions," Moira quipped, her voice amused and light hearted.

"That is probably a safe assumption on your part," Zaras agreed. "They would allow you a small amount of time should you request it, as they have no wish to be cruel in this matter."

"You know that will not be necessary, and any time I request would only prolong my elevation. Being a part of the first order is something I have no wish to delay any longer."

"As you will," he replied, his hand dipping into a pocket, from which he pulled a small, black velvet bag. He opened the small bag, emptied a small amount of ash into his palm, and handed the bag to her. Elena watched as Moira Salvatore did the same, and then the two of them clasped their ash laced palms together.

"Which shall it be?" Zaras asked, his tone formal, and laced with something powerful that caused the air around them to vibrate.

"Stefan," Moira answered.

A small noise caught Elena's attention causing her too look across the room. She saw the younger version of Damon huddled under a table, and he wasn't alone. She saw Stefan pressed against him, his little arms wrapped tightly around his brother's waist, and between them laid a small, pure white puppy. The two of them looked so adorable together, and even at such a young age, you could see the devotion they had for each other. Damon had positioned himself, so that his body sheiled Stefan for any possible harm, and by the look in Stefan's eyes, you knew if you messed with one, you messed with them both.

"You chose Stefan," Zaras said. "The others believed you would choose Damon."

"You knew Stefan would be my choice," she replied closing what little distance had been between them. "Damon has you to protect him."

"We don't know that Moira," Zaras said to her, agitation creeping into his voice. "Since the others believed you'd chose Damon, their protection is bound to Stefan."

"Zaras," Moira said, waiting until his eyes locked onto her's. "It no longer matters."

"How can you say that?" He asked her.

"Because it doesn't," she said firmly. "Do you think the life and fate of one boy is of a concern to either of us?"

"It should be," he replied angrily, pushing away from her. "Especially since he is _your _child. Do you even care what might happen to Damon now?"

"No," she answered him, her violet eyes once again flickering with flames. "He, like you was simply a means to an end. I am done here, and whatever transpires now has no bearing on me."

Elena watched Moira Salvatore leave, watched as Zaras looked at the two boys huddled under the table. Something passed between him and the young Damon, but when he held his hand out to the boy, she saw Stefan's grip on his brother tighten. After a moment, or two, she watched Zaras walk away never once looking back. She saw the room begin to blur, the gray mist creeping in to obscure the scene. She looked to where Stefan had been standing, and saw that he was watching her, studying her, and then everything was gone, everything except the grayness.

* * *

"Elena," Stefan called. "Elena, are you here?"

"I'm still here Stefan," came her soft reply.

Stefan looked in every direction, but because of the dense gray fog, he couldn't actually see anything. He felt as if the fog not only obscured his ability to see, but it made him feel as if he was moving in slow motion, with all of his reflexes and senses paralyzed. He was beginning to think that Katherine really had killed him, and if that was the case, did that mean Elena and Damon were dead as well? Well maybe not Damon, Stefan hadn't actually seen Damon, just Elena, and his dead mother, and he was so not ready to figure that one out.

"Elena, what's going on?" He asked, his voice sounding shaky even to his own ears. "Is there a way for me to find you?"

"I'm not sure," she replied.

Stefan heard the hesitation in her voice, and he couldn't tell if it was because she really didn't know what was happening, or she didn't want to tell him. He was beginning to think more clearly, and the possibility that he may have killed his brother was starting to sink in. If Damon was truly dead, and by his hand no less, Stefan wasn't sure he would want to live, he wasn't sure he'd be able to live without his brother. And he was pretty damn sure he couldn't live if Elena hated him for all of eternity, and he didn't doubt for one moment that she would hate him.

"The fog will dissipate soon," she said into the silence. "Another scene will appear, that would be the best time to try and close the distance. Of course all of this hinges on us being at the same scene at the same time."

"Elena, I need..."

"No Stefan," she said interrupting him. "Not now, I don't want to hear how sorry you are right now. I don't want to hear that you didn't mean to hurt him, that you didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"Elena," Stefan said again, but this time his voice was firm, hard, authoritative. "If, no not if, when, when this is all over, and we are back in Mystic Falls, then we can talk, apologize, grovel; hell whatever we need to move pass this."

"I don't know that we can move pass this Stefan," she replied, her voice tired, weary.

"We don't have a choice," he said, closing his eyes. "If we keep going this way, one of us will end up dead, one of us may already be dead."

"How did you get here?" He heard her ask. "How did I..., how did any of us get here?"

"You're not going to like my answer," he replied, his heart breaking at what this all might mean. If what he thought was true, then Elena would never be his again.

"Tell me any way," he heard through the fog.

"I tried to kill Damon," he said on a heavy sigh. "I drove a vervain laced stake through his chest, after shooting him with wooden hunter bullets, also laced with vervain."

The silence that met his confession was so profound, he thought that Elena had some how managed to leave this place, wherever this place was. He couldn't say he blamed her if she had left him here, it was no less than he deserved. But at least he and Damon were consistent, they only tried to kill each other over women, more precisely over Petrova doppelganger women.

"That explains Damon," she said. "What about the two of us?"

"I think you and Damon are more than sired bonded," he replied reluctantly. "I'm not sure OK, but I think since the two of you shared blood, you've become bound to each other. If one of you is hurt, the other is hurt as well, if one of you feels, then the other will feel it too."

"So, if one of us dies, the other dies too."

"Maybe, I'm not sure. I'm just grasping at straws, trying to sift through a 140 plus years of information, some of which is true, but most of which are rumors, old wives tales, and stories to scare little children into behaving."

"As good of an explanation as any," she quipped. "And you Stefan, how did get invited to this little trip down memory lane?"

"Katherine snapped my neck," was his simple reply.

"Well I guess round one goes to her," Elena said said with a slight chuckle. "Can't actually be angry with her right now, as I'd like to snap your neck too, but it's unusual for Katherine to lash out at you, especially when it comes down to you and Damon."

"Right now Damon seems to be her new BFF," Stefan expounded, listening closely for any reaction to what he was telling her. "She threw me half way across the room, forced her blood into him, and then damn near jumped Elijah when he arrived, carrying you in his arms I might add."

"Elijah is involved?" She asked a slight frown gracing her face as she processed this latest bit of information.

"Elijah seems to be involved with a lot more than just our little triangle," Stefan replied.

He damn near jumped out of his skin, when he felt cool fingers brush against his arm. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief as Elena materialized out of the fog next to him. At first he fought the urge to gather her close, but in the end he just couldn't help himself, and he gently enfolded her into a tight hug. Stefan's heart broke when he realized she was crying, her body trembling slightly from the sobs she tried valiantly to hide from him. Nothing, and no one besides her could make him feel such guilt, such anguish, and he wanted to kick himself for what he had done.

"As touching as this, there is still a lot more that needs to be done," a familiar voice said. They watched in stunned silence as Alaric strode out of the gray mist to stop in front of the two of them. "Dead people don't get to just sit around sipping lattes, reminiscing about good times, and second guessing the bad ones. So chop-chop, get a move on, there is still a lot to do before the rising of a new moon."

"Oh God," Elena whispered. "We really are dead."

**Well it certainly seems as if they might be dead, after all the only people they keep seeing are dead ones, or are they? Hope you enjoyed and I'm already at work on the next chapter. Please let me know what you think (I'm begging).**


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